The inspiration for this piece came to me in prayer.  As always, I sought.  And, as always, the Green Angel came to me.

I wandered through the dense forest of my mind, bearing my sorrow and seeking the refuge of the living kingdom.  My cries were carried on the wind, and the giant trees bore silent witness.   Where were my answers?  Who would hear my cries?  I was utterly alone.

But suddenly I sensed her.  I felt her presence and knew she was near.  As she appeared in form before my eyes, I felt a joyful relief.  She was here.  In our forest, the Green Goddess approached me with her arms outstretched.  As she embraced me, my hands drank her in.  No space was between us, and I felt her warmth, her silken skin, and her invincible nature transmit from her body to mine.  She was strong, supple, and exuded the energy of a true warrior. In her arms, fear could not reach me.  “Take comfort”, she whispered into my ear.  “And hold on tight.”

With a rush of wind and a surge of power, we were aloft. We two clutched in a seemingly endless moment. Then suddenly we began to fall.  She had hoisted me off a seaside cliff, and we were plummeting toward the water’s surface.  Into the rough surf we crashed, and sank to the bottom of the sea.  She was atop me as we reached the ocean floor, which was at once soft and jagged.  It was dark, and I wrestled to understand what was happening.  And there, in the cold, dark briny grave, my Saviouress she left me.  She was gone, and once again I was alone in my anguish.

I lay motionless on the ocean bed.  Shock, terror, and confusion beset me.  My form felt dense and heavy, as an anchor.  Resigned to a death without any knowing, I remained.  Tormented and hopeless, I awaited.  But death did not yet come.  My lungs did not experience the agonizing flood I had expected.  As my eyes adjusted, I could see shadow through the murky water.  I moved my legs, but they felt different.  My mouth opened to cry out, but no sound came.   This was a dream like so many — running without going anywhere, screaming with no sound.  Lucid moments danced in my mind while I was suspended in this dream turned nightmare.  Yet, as time passed, a sense of calm and peace began to wash over me, as my soul sensed somethings familiar.  Was I forgetting who I am and where I came from?  Foggy memories of children, houses, and kitchens came and went.  Was I home?  With eyes closed, I searched my mind for answers.  I searched for her, my Compassionate One.  My body began to call out to her.

At first, the sound came from a foreign place, but soon I recognized my own voice, rising from within me and flowing through my skin, which had become sliced and rippled.  My goddess did not answer me.  I was distraught once again.  Suddenly, in my grief, I realized that the spirit of my father was in the water, surrounding me, informing me, and reminding me that he was now one of the ancestral spirits that would forever accompany me on my journey.  He was the water, and his spirit would always be flowing wherever water flowed.  Resting in the deep water, cold and grey,  I listened to his words of comfort, I sensed his wisdom growing within me, and I joyfully floated in his love.  I was in the element–his element. He was the Scorpio, an emotional water sign, and I am Aquarius, the water bearer. We both belong to the water. The Bodhisattva had carried me to a place of healing and restoration.  She had brought me home.

Now my beautiful Elemental was lying next to me.  She leaned on one elbow and her head was propped with her graceful hand.  She smiled at me and we were two friends, sharing our time together as if nothing else mattered.  “It’s time to go now”, she whispered.  She gathered me in her arms and took me back to the place I now stay.  But I am forever changed.  I know.  I no longer seek, because now I have found.  My questions of late have been answered.  I remember, and I love deeply—as deep as the ocean.  I am whole once again.

Now I know that this short piece is the realization of a prophecy that I wrote about a few years back.  It was called Water Healing.  I knew that my father’s health was fragile and that one day he would leave this world.  I published that piece in December of 2020.  He died in December of 2022, two years later nearly to the day.  I wrote the earlier piece as a way to heal him, and at the same time I was securing a bridge for us to forever find each other—in the water.  Here’s that piece:  https://robinpcurrie.com/2020/12/26/water-healing/